


A Good Day To Go Drinking

by hexmaniacchoco



Series: April Fool's! I still haven't come up with a title yet [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas explains it to them because even Sam isn't actually sure, Castiel in the Bunker, Dean Winchester is a Good Cook, Drinking & Talking, I don't know, M/M, Season/Series 12 Spoilers, St. Patrick's Day, Team Free Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 14:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10515321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hexmaniacchoco/pseuds/hexmaniacchoco
Summary: Dean decides that Cas, Sam, and him are going to do stuff for St. Patrick's Day. When he gets to the part about going out drinking, however, he has somewhat ulterior motives (getting Cas drunk of course) that Sam attempts to shoot down for the sake of Dean's own health and their wallet. He's not really very successful, but then other forces seem to toss a wrench in Dean's plans anyway after they leave.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to pod7et and majesticduxk for giving me tips on writing some of the scenes in here!

The sound of sizzling meat filled the kitchen. Dean was in front of the stove, frying up some slices of ham that weren't quite pink. He shook the pan around for a moment before setting it back down. Sam and Cas were sitting at the stainless steel counter, Sam surfing on his phone and Cas watching Dean cook. Cas tilted his head slightly to the side, watching Dean turn the ham over with a flipper. 

"Why are they green?" he asked. This prompted Sam to look up from his phone.

"Because it's St. Patty's Day," Dean answered as he whisked green food coloring into a bowl of eggs, "So I figured I'd make us all some green eggs n' ham." 

"...That's Dr. Seuss, Dean," Sam informed him. 

"Still green, 'Sam I Am'" Dean muttered. He dumped the ham slices onto a plate and poured the egg mixture into the pan. Cas turned toward Sam. 

"Do you not like green eggs and ham?" 

Sam furrowed his brows and turned to face Cas, staring at him for a moment and wondering if that reference had been intentional or not. Dean chuckled as he scrambled the eggs. 

"Metatron read those books? And gave 'em to you too, Cas?" 

"So it would seem." 

"Really...?" Sam said, narrowing his eyes in disbelief. He shook his head quickly, turning back to Dean and returning to the original topic. "But Dean, don't get me wrong--I appreciate you cooking us breakfast--but why do you suddenly care about St. Patrick's Day? I mean, outside of the drinking." 

"Oh believe me, there will be plenty of that later on," Dean said with a smirk, and continued, "And I don't know... I just... I thought it might be nice. You know, do something a little different for a change, celebrate the occasional thing." 

Sam scoffed, "So does that mean you're going to make us--what is it... corned beef for dinner later?" 

Dean placed the eggs onto a separate plate next to the ham and pointed the flipper at Sam. "That's lunch, and I ain't makin' it. We're going to a diner for a reuben or something." 

Sam wrinkled his nose. "A reuben, Dean? In Kansas? I mean not everything's a New York deli, but it's not exactly a specialty here." 

"Dude, since when are you so pick--"

"I like the idea," Cas said, interrupting the argument. He was looking pensively at the plates Dean was carrying over to the counter where Sam and him sat. As soon as they were set down, Dean gestured toward him. 

"See? Cas is on board. It's a good day to let loose a little, Sam. Eat a green breakfast, get a sandwich later, and spend a few hours at a good bar later in the evening," he said. "It's practically what the day's all about." Dean went toward the cabinets to get some plates for them, and looked over to Cas and added, "Oh, and Cas, I know you don't eat and all that but I made some extra in case you wanted to try some anyway." 

"Thank you, Dean. I will try some," Cas said. 

Sam stood up from his seat and walked toward a drawer. "I'll get us some silverware. And Dean, that's not what the day is all about." 

"Ok, so what is it all about, Sam?" Dean asked, leaning back and resting his elbows against the countertop. 

Sam stopped walking and looked down. He bit his lip, and after a few moments admitted, "Uh... something about--" 

Dean's face lit up. "Hah! Even you don't know what it's about!" he taunted. 

Sam flattened his expression into a bitchface at his brother's clear joy at his lack of extensive knowledge on the subject. He went back to the task of retrieving the cutlery for their breakfast. "Well, what I do know is that it's when St. Patrick brought Christianity to the Irish, and then something snakes, and shamrocks being symbolic of the holy trinity and ties with nature or something," he muttered. 

"You're partly right," Cas interjected. 

"Alright Cas," Dean said with interest, crossing his arms and nodding toward him, "tell us: what's the day about?" 

Cas looked between Sam and Dean somewhat impatiently before explaining, folding his hands in front of him. "I'm not familiar with the current celebrations or what relevance they have to Patrick, but Sam is correct. Patrick is credited with spreading the gospels thoroughly across those lands," he said. 

Sam jabbed his handful of forks toward Dean and opened his mouth to make a retort, but Cas cut him off, confusion clear on his face. "Though I don't understand where snakes are brought into the story." 

"Yeah, Sam. Where do they come in?" Dean asked him, enjoying the situation. He left the spot he was leaning against to bring the three empty plates over to where he placed the two plates of food. 

Sam shot a dirty look toward Dean before looking over to Cas again and, giving an awkward laugh, answered, "Uh... he... drove them out of Ireland or something, right?" 

"That's the pied piper, Sammy," Dean corrected him mockingly, imitating the tone Sam used earlier. 

"That's not the story of the pied piper, Dean," Sam chided. 

"Yeah? Then what is?" 

"He's the pied piper of Hamlet. It's completely--" 

"Patrick never drove any snakes from Ireland," Cas spoke over them, "There had never been any snakes on the island to begin with." 

Dean and Sam stopped arguing and gave their attention back to Cas. Sam cleared his throat gently, walked quickly over to where Dean had placed the plates, and put the forks next to them. 

"There were druids--the people at that time who worshipped the pagan gods of the area. Patrick convinced many of them to worship my Father instead, and I imagine those who he couldn't are those he drove out," he finished. 

"Oh," Sam and Dean said at the same time. Dean started plating the food. 

"Were you down here on Earth at the time, Cas?" he asked. 

"No, but I know an angel who was. They told me about some of their experiences here during that time. They took an old priest as their vessel, to help him spread my Father's word," Cas answered. Dean placed a plate of the ham and eggs in front of him and another in the spot where Sam had been sitting, and then took a plate for himself, walking over to sit on the other side of Cas. 

He scooped a forkful of eggs into his mouth and asked, "So, your friend ever run into Patrick then?" 

"Yes," Cas replied, picking up his own fork and cutting into the ham. "They rescued him from a group of druids who were attempting to kill him. They stopped the attack easily and healed Patrick, and revealed to him and the druids that they were an angel. After that, the druids changed their faith, and Patrick was able to continue his work." 

Sam took that time to return to his seat and start eating as well. Cas still hadn't started, and instead continued, "Him and my friend worked together sometimes to build churches, and in his travels Patrick would tell people of the miracles my friend occasionally performed." 

Sam swallowed down a mouthful of ham before asking, "What kinds of miracles?" 

"Mostly they would cure someone's illness, or help someone with struggling crops. Every now and again they would smite some monster that was terrorizing a village. However, the only story Patrick told that seemed to stick was when my friend was approached by a group of children that had been cursed by a witch to roam the Earth as swans for hundreds of years. They asked him to break the spell over them, and he did so easily," Cas answered.  
"Apparently, those children were well-known throughout the country." 

He finally took a bite of ham, seeming to considerate it as he chewed. Sam appeared to be in thought as well. 

"Huh. What d'ya think of the food?" Dean asked. 

"I've been trying to focus more on the components that are responsible for how foods taste to humans by looking at which ones bond to the tongue and nasal passages," Cas answered, "But I don't think I've quite mastered reducing my own percept--"

"Wait," Sam interrupted, "Do you mean like the story of Swan Lake?" 

"Didn't know you were a ballet nerd too, Sam," Dean teased. 

"Shut up, Dean." 

"I think that story was likely inspired by that of those children, yes," Cas answered. 

"Huh," Sam said, and then asked, "What happened to the kids after they were turned back into humans?" 

Cas looked over at Sam. "When the spell was lifted, the children were no longer immortal. They had lived several lifetimes already, so that time caught up with them and they died soon after." 

"Oh...," Sam said, "Well that's... kind of sadder than the ballet's story." The mood of the room fell a little. 

"Not entirely," Cas allayed, "A reaper brought their souls to Heaven, where they were more than likely reunited with their parents." 

"Oh. Well, I guess it isn't," Sam conceded, shrugging and picking at the remains of his breakfast. 

Dean whistled lowly. "Well after that turn in conversation I suggest we start the drinking early." 

"Actually Mom texted me," Sam said, "And she says she has another case to work the next state over, but she wants to stop by and have lunch with us." 

"Oh," Dean said, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. "I guess it's better that way if she heads out after lunch again. It might be kind of awkward getting liquored up with our mom." 

Cas paused with his fork halfway to his mouth and looked at Dean. "Why is the consumption of alcohol how people celebrate this holiday?" he asked. 

"Probably because people heard that story you just told," Dean quipped. Cas just rolled his eyes. 

The three of them finished eating and brought the dishes to the sink. Once that was finished, Sam turned toward Dean and warned him, "Just so you know, we shouldn't actually get out-of-our-minds wasted tonight, Dean." Dean tossed him a casual two-fingered salute as he left the kitchen.

Once he was gone, Dean turned toward Cas and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Dude, we're going to make sure we have enough that even you can get drunk," he said enthusiastically, a grin plastered across his face. 

~~~~~~~~~~

"Dean, we're not doing that," Sam sternly said. They had finished their lunch with Mary a few hours ago. It had been short but pleasant, and the reubens were admittedly better than Sam expected. Mary told them about the case she was going to be working with Mick and Ketch--a banshee, somewhat fittingly enough--and promised to stop by the bunker and stay a bit longer after she was done. 

The latter put Dean in fairly high spirits, so when she asked the three of them what their plans were for the rest of the day, he told her about them going to get some drinks and also mentioned his own plan of getting Cas drunk. Sam said nothing at the time, so he thought maybe he was actually fine with it--but then he bickered with Dean about it on and off during the drive to the bar. 

"Why not?" Dean complained, "He deserves to have some fun too, Sam." 

"I'm pretty sure we can't afford the amount it would take for that, for one," he replied. 

Cas leaned forward from where he sat in the back and rested his elbows on the corners of Dean and Sam's seats. "Sam is right, Dean. It would require most of the alcohol available in the building," he stated matter-of-factly. 

"So we'll start him off at the bar and continue back at the bunker. But we're gonna' try," Dean said with a finality that made it clear any further arguing would be pointless. He pulled the Impala into a faded and cracked parking lot. There were more cars parked outside the front of the building than one would expect, given the state of its appearance. The wooden building looked old and slightly run down. A soft, orange light spilled out of the barred windows, highlighting a dark grime spattered at the corners. A small sign hung crookedly over the doorway. A handful of neon signs advertised various brands of beer, and every one of them had parts not lit up. 

Sam winced slightly. "We drove an hour to drink here?" he asked. 

"Trust me, Sam. It might look shady as hell, but the booze is cheap and the bartenders make a good drink," Dean confidently assured him, pulling into a spot a little ways from the front and shutting the car off. 

Sam wasn't entirely convinced, but they'd been to worse looking places. He shrugged and opened the door. "Ok..." 

When they walked through the doors, Sam was surprised by the stark contrast. The entire interior had an inviting feel to it. It seemed comfortable. The lighting was low and warm, and Celtic music joined the background noise of lively conversations and the clatter of people's drinks. A large banner that said "Happy St. Patrick's Day!" was stretched above over the bar counter, and the ceiling was decorated with green and white streamers and strings of shamrocks. 

They each took a seat at the bar. "Festive," Dean commented, playing with the edge of leprechaun cut-out drinking a frothy glass of beer. 

The bartender, a man looking for all the world like the cut-out next to them with his bright orange hair and scruffy beard and wearing everything green, walked up to them on the other side of the counter. "What can I get you fellas?" he said, smiling widely. 

"Uh, I'll have a beer," Sam answered, smiling back. 

"Guinness? They're cheaper for today only," the bartender suggested. 

"Sure, yeah. That's fine, uh..." Sam trailed off, looking for a name tag, "Jack. Thanks."

"And for you fine gentlemen?" Jack asked, turning and winking to Dean and Cas. 

"Beer sounds good," Dean answered, and continued, "But make that two glasses each for my friend here and I." 

"No problem," he replied, and walked off to get the drinks. 

"Why two?" Cas asked him. 

"Why one?" Dean asked in return, smiling. 

Shortly after, Jack returned with the drinks, placing two in front of Dean and Cas each and one in front of Sam. 

"Bottoms up," Dean said happily, before taking a large swig of the dark drink. 

~~~

Half an hour had passed, and Jack sort of hung around the three of them when he wasn't busy serving others, which none of them actually minded at all. They couldn't talk about hunting with him around, but in a way that was sort of a break from all that. It was enjoyable. 

"Hey Jack! A glass of whiskey for my friend and I, neat," Dean said.

"Sure thing!" Jack replied and left to get the drinks.

"And keep 'em comin'!" Dean called after him. He turned to face Cas and smirked, adding, "We're going to have ourselves a little contest. Ain't that right, Cas?" 

Sam elbowed Dean. "Dude, you can't have a drinking contest with Cas! You'd just lose anyway." 

"You would," Cas agreed. 

"Stop trying to ruin my fun, Sammy," Dean said dismissively, "And it's on now, Cas." 

Cas frowned at him. "That wasn't a challenge." 

Sam sighed. "Look, just don't get so hammered you end up passing out, or doing something stupid." 

"Sam, I'm offended," Dean replied, a mock hurt tone to his voice. 

"Dean." 

"Yeah yeah, I know, Sammy. We're not 20 anymore, we gotta take care of ourselves, and you don't want me to embarrass you in front of your new boyfriend," Dean said, counting each reason on his fingers. "Did I forget anything?"

"What new boyfriend, Dean?" Sam scoffed. 

"You know, Jack, the bartender," Dean casually answered, "You smilin' at him all the time... and he seems to really like talking with you more." 

Sam rolled his eyes and took another drink of his beer. "Whatever, Dean." 

"You know I'm right." 

"I thought picking up bartenders was what you like to do, Dean," Cas suddenly joined in. "Are you jealous of Sam?" 

Sam raised his glass to Cas. "Thanks. And he probably is." 

Despite the sudden turn of the teasing on him, Dean kept his cool and simply replied, "Gotta give Sammy a chance to score every now and then." 

Sam punched him in the arm.  
\---

It was another half an hour later, and Sam had stuck to just having a few beers. Someone had to at least look like the designated driver even though it was agreed ahead of time it would be Cas. And Sam didn't mind either. They had plenty of booze back at the bunker if he wanted, which was why he had been a little surprised at Dean's proposition to go out. Unless Dean really was trying to see if he could get Cas drunk and didn't want to entirely run themselves out. Sam idly wondered what would happen if they were pulled over and Cas had to take a breathalyzer test. In the meantime, Dean and Cas were still going strong in their "contest", Cas downing every drink effortlessly one after another. 

"Your friend sure can hold a drink, can't he?" Jack said to Sam, whistling lowly and eyeing Cas in suspicion. "I don't think I've ever seen someone do that well without cheating." 

"Cas? Oh uh, yeah--no... He's just...really good," Sam answered in mild amusement, "He's not cheating."

Jack turned toward Dean. "You might be hellbent on it, but I don't think you're going to win this one, friend. A tie, maybe. But winning?" he said, shaking his head in skepticism. 

"He won't," Cas agreed, taking Dean's drink from his hands and drinking it all himself. 

"Hey!" Dean shouted. 

Jack chuckled, pouring them both a single glass and topping off Sam's beer, and left when someone further down called out for a refill. 

"So Cas," Sam started to ask, "Did you ever do things like this when you were like... in other vessels?" 

"No, not really," Cas said, "I had only ever taken a vessel when there was something needed to be done on Earth. The most recent was the time you learned about from Ishim. She probably would have been against something like this, anyway." 

"Wait," Dean said, surprised, "'She'?" 

"Yes. My previous vessel, barring Claire, was a woman." 

"Huh," Dean said, looking over Cas in consideration before asking, "Was she hot?" 

"Dean," Sam admonished. 

"What? It's a fair question."

Cas adjusted himself in his seat. "I suppose you would have found her attractive, yes," he answered, taking a large drink and then staring into his glass. 

Sam raised his eyebrows, but before he could say anything else, Jack returned. "I think you should probably concede victory," he said, leaning to rest his elbows on the counter in front of Dean. 

Sam, grinning at the realization of an opportunity, spoke up before Dean could reply, "Actually, the contest was just a cover. You see, he's just been hoping to get lucky with him later." 

Dean's face turned a bright red. He faced Sam and mouthed "Sam! Why?!" and then abruptly turned to face Jack with wide eyes. "He's just-- he's just kidding," he laughed. He pointed back and forth between himself and Cas, spluttering, "I'm not--we're not--it's not like that." 

Sam just laughed. 

Jack shrugged, giving Dean a lopsided grin, and said, "Are you sure? Because it looks to me like you two'd make a real cute couple." 

Dean wiped his hand down his face. Sam just kept laughing, to his annoyance. Dean would have to get him back for this. 

"No, he's... he really is kidding," Cas explained. 

"Thank you," Dean told him in relief, swinging his arm wide in gesture and knocking it into his glass slightly, causing it to splosh a little onto the counter. 

It might have been too soon however, as the corner of Cas' mouth crept up into a small smile, and he added, "I think." 

Make that he would have to get both of them back for this.

Dean felt scandalized. It was bad enough Sam apprently liked teasing him about the ridiculous pairing Chuck's fans came up with for him and Cas, but now Cas was joining in too? Did he even know about that? Did Sam tell him? Dean's mouth fell open, and he let it hang there, searching for some sort of retort, but finding none. Finally:

"Y-yeah, well... you... you make a good couple...," he tried, pointing between Jack and his brother. 

"Dean, I think we should get going," Cas said, smiling and placing his hand on Dean's shoulder. 

"Yeah Dean," Sam said, smiling widely and putting his hand on Dean's other shoulder. 

."You three have a good night," Jack laughed, collecting their glasses and walking off. 

"Yeah you too," Dean grumbled, still embarrassed. He shrugged off Sam and Cas' hands and led the way out the door. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They were about halfway back to the bunker and in the middle of a debate on the quality of Taylor Swift's music when suddenly the Impala's engine cut out. 

"What the hell's going on?" Dean asked suddenly, leaning forward to peer out the windshield at the hood as if he could figure out the problem by doing so. 

Cas looked in confusion at the dashboard and then out at the hood. "I don't know," he said. Luckily they were within skating distance of some roadside inn's parking lot, so he was able to steer her into it and bring her to a gentle stop. 

"Uh... So what now...?" Sam asked as they sat there awkwardly, the Impala stopped diagonally across two parking spaces. As an answer, Dean got out of the car and around to the front to inspect it. 

"Pop the hood, Cas," he said, concern in his voice. 

Cas did, and after a few minutes of checking things Dean closed it again, having found nothing wrong. He stood with his hand still on the surface, looking perplexed, and then walked back to the passenger side and climbed in. 

"Well I can't find anything wrong with her...," Dean told them, "So there shouldn't be any reason we're stopped." 

"Unless...," Sam started, cautiously, "...this has nothing to do with the Impala itself..." 

A tension started to build at his words, and they looked around the area warily. But after a minute or two of having their guards up, when nothing suddenly appeared and no one attacked them, they relaxed a little. Dean looked out at the inn. 

"I guess we're staying here tonight," he said. 

They piled out of the car and headed inside. 

The inn wasn't much to look at, but they were grateful it wasn't some skeevy by-the-hour place. A friendly-enough-looking girl sat behind the counter looking at her phone. She looked up as she heard them enter, and looking from Cas, to Sam, and then to Dean, told them, "Oh--we only have two rooms available at the moment--both single queens... Is that alright?" 

"Sure," Dean answered. 

"Great!" she replied, getting the keys. The register had a sign saying the card reader was down, but the fee the inn charged was thankfully cheap enough they could pay it with the cash they had on them. Once they paid and Dean got the keys, they headed down the hall towards the rooms. 

"Which one you want?" Dean asked Sam, holding a key out to him in each hand. Sam looked closely at them, holding his chin, before finally grabbing one with a bored employee or a kid or something drew a dog on. 

"This one!" he said, then turned to head further down the hallway, waving his hand slightly back at them and saying "See you guys in the morning!" 

"G'night!" Dean returned. He took a look at the room number on the key, and then wrapping his arm around Cas' shoulder, walked them in the direction of the other room. 

~~~

Dean froze when he opened the door onto their room and the thing most immediately visible was the mentioned queen-sized--covered in deep red blankets and complete with pink, heart-shaped pillows. 

"Awwwww---no!" he complained from the doorway. Cas pushed past him to take a look. 

"It's not that bad, Dean," he said. "You're the only one using the bed." 

Dean ran a hand through his hair and sighed, finally walking into the room and tossing the keys onto the table. Cas placced his hand on Dean's shoulder. 

"You should get some sleep." 

He led Dean toward the bed, but when they reached it, Dean turned around. 

"I'm not tired. Why don't we just... you know... hang out, chat a little?" Dean suggested instead. 

"We can talk in the morning," Cas replied simply. Dean sat down on the bed but as Cas turned to walk toward the table, he grabbed his sleeve. 

"Aw come on, Cas," Dean insisted. 

Cas sighed lightly, but sat next to Dean anyway. "What do you want to talk about?" he asked. 

"I don't know... I mean how about you? Your past," Dean offered. "It's like Sam and I are learning all these things about you that we didn't know before, and it's just...," he trailed off, gesturing uselessly in an attempt to make his point. 

"I don't know how much there is to say," Cas said, shrugging, "I was a soldier, Dean." 

"But I bet you must have done some pretty awesome stuff somewhere in your life so far," Dean prodded, smiling at him.

Cas returned the smile, but then frowned, and looking down at his lap answered, "There were some things I've done that you might consider 'awesome'. But there have been many regrettable things as well." 

"Then just don't talk about those things. I'm not tryin' to pry here, Cas. I just wanna' hear more about you... from you," Dean explained, putting his arm around Cas' shoulders and giving him a light shake of support. Cas turned slightly to face him better, a warm look in his eyes. Dean suddenly became very aware of the fondness in his own expression, and then he wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the situation, but his cheeks started to burn. He moved his arm a little forwards, curled it just a little more around Cas--who seemed to notice and looked briefly at Dean's arm around him and then back over at Dean. He brought his hand up to the side of Dean's face and held it. 

"You should get some sleep, Dean," Cas repeated from earlier, this time his voice softer and more affectionate. The corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile, and it was the last thing Dean saw before everything was suddenly black. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ugh... Jesus...," Dean groaned, sitting up and pushing the covers off himself. He held his head, trying to remember what happened the night before. He remembered the bar, and then the Impala breaking down, and then him and Cas were talking and--

"Cas!" Dean called out. There was no answer. He got up and stumbled a little toward his jacket, draped over a chair at the table. He put it on, and then sat down, grabbing his boots from under the table and putting them back on as well. Just as soon as he was tying the laces, there was a small knock at the door, before the sound of the key turning in the lock and a soft click as the door opened. 

"Dean, you up man?" Sam asked, poking his head into the room. 

"Yeah... Sam... Come on in," Dean answered. "Where's Cas?" 

"Outside. We took a look at the Impala again this morning, and we don't know what it was last night, but she's working just fine now," Sam explained, then furrowed his brow at Dean, who was scrunching his eyes and holding a hand to his head. "If you got a bad hangover or something--" 

"No," Dean interrupted, "I mean--probably, yeah, but Cas whammied me to sleep last night Sam. And that always sucks... I'll be fine in a minute." 

Sam grimaced a little. "You weren't like... getting handsy on him or something--"

Dean looked up at Sam indignantly. 

Sam just smiled and patted Dean's back. "I was just joking," he said, and after digging into his pocket, continued, "Anyway, we're going to head out in a few, so like... eat some gum or something 'cause your breath reeks of booze, dude." He fished out a stick and held it out to Dean. 

Dean cupped his hand over his mouth and breathed out, then took a few sniffs. He rolled his eyes and took the gum, unwrapping it and popping it into his mouth. "Better?" he asked, breathing at Sam. 

"Ew," Sam said, wrinkling his nose and turning his face away. 

"Alright, let's go," Dean said, standing up to leave. Sam followed him out toward the car, where Cas was already waiting in the driver's seat. 

Sam climbed in the back, but Dean walked around to the driver's side and knocked on the window. "Mind if I drive now?" he asked. 

"Not at all," Cas answered, and got out of the car to head around to the passenger's side. 

"So anyone else think it weird that the car just happened to break down for no discernible reason outside a motel, and that one of the only rooms left was some cheap romance suite?" Sam questioned as Dean started the Impala. 

"It was admittedly strange, but nothing happened all night, so it's possible it was just a coincidence," Cas replied. 

Dean seemed to consider it for a moment. "Yeah, I think I'm with Cas on this one," he finally said, "There's no reason it isn't a coincidence." 

"I guess," Sam shrugged, "It's just kind of weird, that's all." 

"I agree," Cas said. 

"Yeah, me too," Dean agreed, pulling out of the parking lot and heading back onto the road. "Let's just be glad that's all it was," he added, and Sam and Cas both nodded as he stepped on the gas, eager for them all to be back home at the bunker.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fanfic posted that isn't for spnclodesthits and also isn't an "i lik the bred" poem, both of which are things I was working on at the same time as trying to write this and do other things, so as a result this is posted kind of late. But! I stayed up late again so I could post it before April 1st, because it's March 31st until I go to bed and that is definitely how that works. And that way it's still March when I'm posting it and still the same month as the holiday it was written for. :P (Also, I'll put links to pod7et and majesticduxk's AO3's tomorrow, but for now, anyone who reads this and is interested has their usernames and can and should search them up and read some of their fics too!)  
> Why do I never post these at a time during daylight hours...?  
> Oh, there are probably typos, also. It's not beta-ed or proofread or anything, so I'll do that tomorrow.


End file.
